Vintage Memories
by worrywart
Summary: Poppy, Pomona, and Septima meet to reminiscence about former students and colleagues with one of the ladies revealing a wish that sadly, did not come true. Mostly epilogue compliant.


**I write this some time ago for The Maple Bookshelf's one year anniversary challenge, and it was the winner! I had been going through my folders of writing, deleting stuff that made me wonder what the hell I was thinking and saving others to tidy up and post here for you all. **

**I was very melancholy when I wrote this. I hope you enjoy it!**

**Thank you jamies_lady for the beta/BP.**

* * *

Septima Vector weaved through her classroom after a long day, tiding away scraps of parchment and the other detritus she found. She waved her wand and a window opened to air the room; the smell of sweaty adolescent bodies was overpowering on a rare hot day.

_May second,_ she thought. _Where has time gone... two years already? _ She shook her head in disbelief as she picked up books that lay on a few of the desks her students had just vacated. Placing the texts on the shelf at the back of the class, she took one last look around before returning to the front of the room toward the blackboard. Pressing the chalk tray, a panel slide open and she stepped through.

As the panel slide shut, torches lit the way down a small hall to her private living quarters. Pulling the pins out of her hair, the customary bun she wore lost its shape and fell to her waist. She ran her fingers through her hair to shake it out and then gave her scalp a quick scratch. Sighing, she dropped her hairpins on a nearby table and went into her bedroom.

Quickly changing from her heavy teaching robes into a lighter, more comfortable evening robe, she searched out her slippers and picked up a book from her bedside table.

She left the room and went into her small kitchen to select a bottle of wine for the evening, a bucket of ice to cool it down and three wine glasses.

"Oh, you're just about ready!" a voice came from the formal door to her quarters.

Looking up, Septima smiled at Poppy and welcomed her in. "Yes, I just need to cool it down and then we can open it. Have a seat anywhere. Do you want anything to eat? I could call an elf."

"You know, Sep," began Poppy, "It's a lovely evening; why don't we go to the Professor's Keep? We could ask the elves to bring some sandwiches there. Pomona said she'd meet us there and if not, just send her a Patronus."

"A perfect idea. I have everything, let's go!" With a wave of her wand, she not only conjured ice for the bucket, but also levitated it along behind her while Poppy called an elf and placed an order.

The Professor's Keep was a small, private garden at the base of the west tower, facing the Black Lake. By the grace of Merlin, it had sustained minimal damage in the battle.

Through the many years Hogwarts existed, it was a place of refuge, contemplation, and refreshment for the professors. Three higher walls, about four and a half feet high, surrounded most of it with a shorter wall, about knee high, allowing a clear view of the lake and the scenery beyond. Professor Sprout had lovingly maintained the garden in all the years she had been there, and flowers of all sorts bloomed year round. There were times when she had to replant the entire garden after Severus Snape had blasted every bloom to bits when in a temper.

A variety of trees provided shelter and shade from the sun while their leaves rustled in a soothing melody. There was no cover to keep the weather out, but it was nothing for the experienced witches and wizards to conjure a roof or other head cover should the need arise.

The three women settled on the available chaises were an interesting trio; Septima was the tallest of the three. She was thin with long dark hair. Her blue eyes were framed with long lashes, her skin was unblemished and was already becoming the lovely dark olive tone of her ancestors with more exposure to the sunshine. She was youngest of the women, but that did not stop the trio from forming a deep friendship.

Poppy, in contrast, was thoroughly British, complexion and all. Her hair was, for the most part, still the brown of her youth, but grey hair had begun to become more prevalent; time and stress had played a large part in its appearance. She was shorter by about six inches than Septima—but taller by about half that than Pomona—and not quite as thin. Nearly thirty years of Hogwarts' food does tend to stick to the hips.

Pomona was the shortest; her last name seemed to fit her stature. Her iron gray hair was never tidy; always in cloud about her head. Her skin was perpetually brown, almost leathery from years in the sun and garden. Only magic kept way the worst of the sun's damage.

"Such a lovely evening, Pop," said Septima as she placed her glass of wine down. "Do you remember the first time the three of us came out here? Filius was scandalized when he saw us in our evening robes and slippers, carrying wine and books!"

"I thought he was going to snap his wand, he was so shocked!" said Pomona.

Poppy laughed at the memory. "I do indeed! How many bottles of wine do you suppose we've uncorked together since then?"

"Believe it or not, I've saved each cork. I'll count them for you one day," said Septima.

"You haven't!" Poppy exclaimed in disbelief.

"Yes, I have. Each one marks the time for me; our special times when no one else is around, and the three of us can just chat or be silent. Each is a treasure for me."

The three ladies had fallen into their friendship so easily even though Septima was the youngest of them and had Pomona as a teacher at school. However, the ladies were of a like mind; they enjoyed their jobs, they enjoyed the same literature and leisure activities. Their friendship held them together during that long, dark school year of 1998.

They sat quietly, sipping their wine until Poppy broke the silence. "I believe the warmer weather is here to stay, finally! Just another few weeks and the students will be gone for the summer."

"What are our plans this summer? You usually have the best plans for our holidays. It _has_ been a while since we've gone anywhere," Septima asked as she refreshed their glasses.

"Oh yes," Pomona said in agreement. "You do manage to find the best fun. What'll it be this year...the beach, America? Someplace where the men are good looking and nearly naked?"

Septima snorted. "Mona...you are too much sometimes!"

Pomona simply lifted her glass in salute and winked saucily at her friends.

"I really hadn't thought about it," said Poppy. "To be truthful, I am just so thankful we have the school, our freedom, and our lives, that everyday seems a holiday."

"I can't believe it's been two years since the final battle," said Septima.

"Ay, it has. So much has changed and yet, nothing has changed," Poppy said sadly.

Pomona stood and walked over the low wall, looking out of the stretch of grounds where a great deal of the battle had occurred. "You know, sometimes, when the wind blows, I can still hear the screams."

Septima stood and comforted her friend. "It is never far from my mind, either."

The two women returned to their chaise and took up their glasses. Together with Poppy, the three raised a silent toast to the fallen.

"I'll never forget any of them, ever," said Pomona.

"Nor I," agreed Poppy.

"I miss them all, too," Septima said quietly. "You two knew so many of them better than I did; what can you tell me about them?"

Poppy took a long sip of wine before speaking. "Probably not a great deal more than you already know. I knew some better than others, yes, but really not as much as you might think. Severus, surely. He was in and out of my infirmary from day one. He attracted trouble even if he didn't instigate it."

Pomona said, "He was the smartest boy I'd ever seen! What he knew about plants already surpassed my knowledge in his third year. When I asked him where he learned it all, he said he often visited the library here and the Muggle library on breaks. He said he wanted to be a Potions Master someday and needed to be familiar with all sorts of plants."

"Was it true he loved Lily?" asked Septima.

"I think so," replied Poppy. "In the first few years, I could see a connection between the two; more so on Severus' part. Lily was a lovely girl even at eleven, but she could also be a bit vain. In her attempt to assimilate into the magical world, she would cultivate those who would help her. Severus and she lived quite close in the Muggle world, so naturally they gravitated toward other before Hogwarts. When she saw Severus did not fit in with her 'crowd', she subtly began to pull away. It wasn't until it was obvious which path Severus was heading toward that she backed away more visibly. It affected him more than she was aware. It was a bit like watching ice melt while hot water is poured over it; you want the shape to last a long as possible, but eventually it breaks. The incident in the schoolyard that spring broke everything."

"But not Lily so much as Severus?" Septima asked.

"No. Lily had her friends, and James was ready to pick her up when the blow came. Severus unfortunately, did not. Any friends he might have made had left school already."

"Lucius and the lot?"

"Yes. Lucius was able to guide Severus in the ways of how to be a pureblood Slytherin, but at a price. I am certain it was he who pushed Severus toward the Dark Lord."

"I never liked that Malfoy boy," Pomona said.

"Which one?" asked Poppy.

"Both."

Septima asked, "Did Severus ever have another girlfriend?"

"I don't think so," said Poppy. "It is rumoured that Bellatrix and he were together briefly, but I am not sure."

The sandwiches finally arrived and the women rose to fix plates and open another bottle of wine. Returning to her chaise, Septima said, "You may think this I am off my rocker, but do you know who I think would have made a good wife for Severus had he lived?"

"Who?" The other two asked.

"Hermione Granger."

Pomona spit her wine. "What!? You must be joking!"

"No," Septima laughed, "I am not! Look at it; both were obnoxiously studious, exceptionally brilliant, socially awkward, and desperate to fit in. Had he lived, they might have found their way to each other. I know that Severus had told me, oh, I think it was Christmas time of her fifth year that he was thinking of offering her an apprenticeship. Who knows what might have grown out of that?"

Poppy looked across the lake, watching the giant squid wave a tentacle at Hagrid as he wandered by with Fang. "Do you think she would have accepted the advances of an older man?"

"Yes, I do. She was far more mature than her classmates; I could see her gravitating toward him for that reason. He might not have been the best looking cabbage in the patch, but he did have gravitas."

"You sound like you were smitten," teased Poppy.

"Perhaps, but smitten was as far as it went. He really was a git."

Poppy laughed. "Yes, he was, but I loved him like a son and miss him dearly."

"Well, it's a moot point now. She and young Mr. Weasley seem to get on well," Septima said matter of factly. "The Weasleys have made a proud showing since the war, eh?"

"Indeed, but at a cost", said Pomona. "Molly is still in deep mourning for Fred, and George is seeing counsellors at St. Mungo's. He has the shop, but he seems to have lost some spark since Fred's death."

Poppy asked, "Has the shop re-opened, do you know?

"Yes. Angelia Johnson left her Quidditch team to help run it. She loves George so much."

"What about Arthur? Hasn't he gotten a promotion?" Pomona looked at Poppy as she asked.

Poppy swallowed a bite of sandwich. "Yes; he is now in charge of the Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects at the Ministry. He and Molly are building a new home since their other was burned to the ground during the war."

"That should be nice. The Burrow was a hodgepodge of outbuildings all stuck together."

"You'll not like this then, they are building a replica."

Septima shook her head. "Why? Why not something new, less filled with memories?"

"It's what Molly wanted, and Arthur was so thrilled to have Molly the least bit interested in something, he gave in quite easily."

"Is it true that Ginny and Harry are to wed, soon?" asked Pomona

Poppy nodded her head in answer. "It _is_ expected, but I think Harry wants to enjoy a year or two without having a crazed lunatic after him before settling down."

"What does Ginny think about that? All during her final year, she was bragging about the nuptials."

Poppy snorted. "However much that girl bragged, she can be a flibbertigibbet; she got an offer from the Holyhead Harpies and wanted to play for a year or two. Harry was fine with that."

"Well, that all worked out then," remarked Septima. "What about Ron and Hermione, then?"

"Ron is not best pleased that Hermione is still going to school instead of immediately popping out a Quidditch team, but she has promised once she has her law degree they will marry and have children."

"Bit of a waste there, don't you think?"

"Who are we to judge, Tima? This is what they think they want right now. Time will tell."

The sun was dipping farther down the sky, and fairy lights began to float among the trees of the Keep.

"And what of the rest of the Weasleys?" Pomona asked, slowly sipping her wine.

"Bill is in Egypt, but it is rumoured he will be returning full time to Gringott's. He and Fleur are expecting and he wants to be nearby. Percy and Penelope Clearwater still date, but nothing seems firmed up there. Percy has reconciled with his family to an extent, but that's still a bit shaky. He was questioned heavily during the trials about the Umbridge years. He was demoted, by the way."

"Good. I always thought he was a bit of a smarmy fink, if you ask me," said Septima.

"Septima!" Poppy admonished.

"Well, it's true. He made my skin crawl. Will Charlie ever come back to England, do you think? I liked him."

"Nope, a confirmed bachelor, still in Romania," Pomona said around a mouthful of biscuit the house elves had supplied with the sandwiches.

Septima stood to stretch legs. "Let's head back inside, ladies," said Septima. "It's starting to cool down."

The trio settled on the couch and a wing-backed chair in Septima's sitting room. Poppy had started a fire and the group was comfortable and warm as they resumed their chat.

Septima asked, "What of young Teddy Tonks? I heard Harry is his godfather; will he take care of him?"

Poppy answered, "Andromeda Tonks has custody since she is his closest living relative. I believe she and Harry have worked an arrangement to their satisfaction so that the boy will be well taken care of, have a bit of family since Harry is nearly married to the Weasleys; lots of children for Teddy to play with and all that. Andie is no longer a young woman. She has made arrangements in her will that should she die before Teddy becomes of age, primary custody will go to Harry."

"Do they know if he inherited his father's condition?" asked Pomona.

"Not yet. It won't show if he has until puberty anyway. I believe there is some work on curing lycanthropy being done; some of it aimed and identifying carriers and the like."

"Neville Long bottom seems to be settling in well, Pomona, don't you think?" Septima asked.

"He is, dear boy," Pomona said. "Another few years and I'll finally be able to retire to do some private research."

"And find that nearly naked man you're always on about," teased Septima.

"You betcha'; I hear Ibiza is the place to find them."

"Och; too hot for me," Poppy said. "What about Luna; Neville seemed quite taken by her right at the end."

"They still see each other. I believe an engagement in that camp will not be long in coming," explained Pomona

"Had you heard the Malfoys are to be released from house arrest next week?" asked Septima.

"Yes. If you ask me, they didn't get near enough what they deserved," said Pomona.

"Now, now, ladies," admonished Poppy. "Perhaps Lucius should have gone to Azkaban, but poor Draco."

"He didn't come back to make up his seventh year, did he? He was not in Herbology." Pomona said.

"No; the Wizengamot wouldn't and won't let him. There was talk of a private tutor, but no one would answer any of their inquiries about such. Draco will have to learn to make his way in the world. I believe the family was thinking about relocating to France or even America."

"Good, the farther the better."

"Really; he was just a boy," Poppy rebuked.

"They were _all_ just boys," Septima said wistfully.

Uncomfortable silence reigned for several minutes before Pomona spoke again. "What say we play cards? What about three hand Gin?"

The other two women were thankful for the distraction. The fate of Slytherin house was a subject of such debate between them. Septima refused to give in and Poppy refused to see them as anything other than misguided children with bad parents. They had had several rows over the subject and their friendship had been strained at times as a result. The table was quickly set and another bottle of wine opened. Poppy dealt the cards and soon cards were picked up and discarded.

"How is Minerva, Poppy?" Pomona asked as she sorted the cards in her hand.

"She's doing well. Her chest injuries bother her, but now that she has decided to give up the Transfiguration post, her duties will be less stressful. She is looking to find an apprentice amongst this years' crop of seventh years."

"It's a shame Miss Granger wanted to go into Magical Law instead; she would have been an excellent addition to the staff," said Pomona.

"She would have, indeed," said Poppy.

The game and talk went on for several more hands when Poppy said, "Knock". The other ladies groaned and lay their cards down.

Quickly adding up points, Septima gathered up the cards. "Another hand, ladies?"

"I believe I'm done for," said Pomona. "I've got a shipment of plants coming in tomorrow; thought it would be good for the OWL bunch to help me sort out. I need to get to the greenhouse first thing and get things ready."

"And I believe I'll turn in as well. It was a lovely evening ladies," said Poppy.

There were 'good nights' and 'see in you in the mornings' all around as Septima closed the door to her quarters. She walked quietly over to the table to pack away the cards and pick up the wine glasses. Once those items had been tidied, she picked up the last wine cork from the table and added it to the others in her pocket.

She walked into her bedroom and pulled a box from under her bed. It was not very big, but it was magical, so lifting the cover revealed a quite capacious box filled with corks. Summoning a quill and ink, she pulled the corks from her pocket, wrote the date on each one and dropped them in with the others. She dug her hands into them, lifting a small pile and let them drop, sifting through her fingers back into the box. Reaching in, she pulled one back out at random.

She turned it over in her palm and read the date: May 3, 1998. This one represented the toast they had drunk to the fallen. She pulled another one: January 9, 1987. The one and only time they ever allowed a male to join them; Severus' twenty-seventh birthday. She knew for a fact there were ten other corks in that box with that date; they had gotten quite drunk that night! She blushed a little at the thought as she remembered Severus and she had shared quite a snogging session when he walked her back to her quarters. Their only kiss.

Yes, she would need to count these someday; perhaps the three of them would do it together and remember some of the things they talked about. But for now, it was bedtime. Tomorrow was a full day of teaching and she needed her sleep. Standing, Septima took one last look at the box before toeing it back under the bed. She lay down and waited for sleep to take her. Just as she did, a final image popped into her head; the Lovegood girl, wearing a necklace made from Butterbeer bottle corks. _Yes,_ she thought. _She and Neville will make a good pair._


End file.
